You Were Never Gone
by NoPleaseStayHere
Summary: If Lydia had been taken by the Wild Hunt instead of Stiles...
1. Chapter 1

Scott, Stiles and Lydia stood outside an abandoned house.

"That's not creepy at all." muttered Stiles before leading the way down the path at the side of the house.

Scott gently nudged open the side door as Stiles turned on his flashlight, handing one to Scott, then Lydia.

"Do you want to split up?"

"Absolutely not." Stiles said earnestly.

Lydia swallowed her smile as she followed the two of them down the hall and up the stairs. Cobwebs littered the walls and stairs and dust covered every inch of the home. The paint looked fresh and new, though, and Lydia couldn't get that out of her head.

"Maybe he got the address wrong?"

"Or he lied."

"Why would he lie?"

Lydia watched as Stiles opened a door at the end of a hall and stopped dead in her tracks.

"He didn't lie." Lydia muttered. She walked towards the center of the room as the boys continued their back-and-forth commentary.

The boys turned to leave the room as Scott heard a noise downstairs.

"Are you coming?" Stiles asked.

"I'll be right there." Lydia promised as something caught her eye.

Stiles nodded and left the bedroom as Lydia walked towards a row of pictures stuck to the wall. Something seemed so off about them but at first Lydia couldn't place it. She looked down at the desk and once she saw the frame - _#1 Dad_ \- she realised what it was. The boy was alone in all the pictures, but was posing as if someone else was meant to be there. Smiling by himself, arms propped on invisible shoulders, the boy hugging the air. Someone else was supposed to be in them.

Lydia turned to leave as well, when something else caught her eye. There was a rustling under the bedskirt in the corner, as if a breeze was coming through the room. She bent at the knee, getting parallel to the floor and lifted the sheets and bedskirt. _What the hell was that?_ She thought. She could've sworn she heard a horse. She looked behind her, then looked under the bed once more. Horse hooves.

She jumped up onto her feet and looked over the bed, to where she saw the hooves. Nothing was there. She shook her head slightly, then crossed the short path to the bedroom door and closed it behind her.

Lydia placed her forehead against the closed door and took a deep breath, steadying her thoughts. She heard rustling leaves behind her. She whipped her head around and saw a shadowy figure. It slowly raised a gun and pointed it towards her.

"Wait," She said, terrified.

It shot once, twice, again and again. Lydia ducked, slid down the wall and covered her face, willing herself to scream but she couldn't muster anything.

She blinked and looked up, willing herself to make a noise - but the figure was gone.

She saw Scott and Stiles coming towards her, Liam and Mason flanking them.

"What happened?" Stiles asked as he rushed towards her.

"He-he was here. He shot at me." She told them. "Scott, I think it was one of the guys you saw in his memory. They... they were made to disappear. That's why they weren't in any of the photos."

"They were erased." Stiles finished for her.

* * *

"You don't have to figure it all out right this second." Lydia said to Stiles, who was paging through a book. They were outside, and she heard thunder. She was getting colder by the second.

"But this poor kid, he's got no one." Stiles said as he snapped the book shut.

Lydia couldn't stop thinking about how the thunder sounded like horses galloping. She couldn't stop thinking about the horse she had seen - had she seen it? - this afternoon.

"Riders on the storm?" She heard Stiles say.

"What?" Lydia said, snapping out of it. Had she said something?

"That's the song, Riders on the Storm."

"That's it!"

"What's it?"

"The Ghost Riders. The Wild Hunt! They come by storm, riding on their horses and they take people."

"Lydia, you're so smart, I could kiss you."

"Do not kiss me." Lydia said, biting at her cheeks to stop a smile from spreading.

"No, uh -" Stiles tripped over his words. He leaned forward and placed a wet kiss on her cheek. "Did it anyway!" He called as he ran away from her.

Lydia was there, fighting a smile, a confused look playing on her face. _Why did I like that so much?_ She thought.

* * *

Malia walked into the classroom where Lydia was waiting.

"You said you needed my help? What - oh, God, that kind of help?"

"Something terrible is going to happen." Lydia said gently.

"Like what?"

"I don't know yet."

"How do you know that you'll need my help if you don't know what you want me to help with?" Malia questioned.

"Just... just be prepared?" Lydia tried to reason.

"Okay." Malia nodded. "I'll be on the look-out." She backed out of the row of desks carefully. "I gotta run. I promise to help once we figure out what I'm helping with." She grinned and turned.

"Malia?" Lydia said suddenly, getting up from the desk she was sitting in.

"Yeah?" Malia cocked her eyebrow.

"I -"

Malia's cellphone lit up in her hand, _Pocket Full of Sunshine_ blaring out from the device.

"What? It's catchy. I missed out on a lot of music." She swiped the lit-up screen, pressing the phone to her ear. "Hello? Yeah, I'm coming. I'll be there in a minute." She took the phone away from her ear quickly and looking pointedly at Lydia. "Tell me tomorrow?" She asked.

Lydia nodded.

Malia smiled and turned, putting the phone back to her ear and leaving the classroom.

Lydia sighed defeatedly, then gathered her purse and went to leave the classroom herself. She walked down the halls, an overwhelming feeling of dread casting over her. A familiar face got her attention.

"Sheriff! Have you seen Stiles?" Lydia asked.

"Not tonight, not yet. I'm a little preoccupied with, uh -" Sheriff turned and looked at the body being wheeled past the open double doors of the school. "Are you a friend of my son?" He asked.

Lydia's eyebrows scrunched, closing together. "It's me, Lydia. Are you okay, Sheriff?"

Sheriff Stilinski turned to look at the scene outside of the school once again, then back at the girl in front of him. "Look, I'm really sorry, Linda, I have to be going. I hope you find Stiles." He gave her a small half smile, then turned and went about his business.

"It's Lydia." She called dejectedly, blinking in disbelief. She turned and looked down the hall, still on her mission to find Stiles.

Lydia caught sight of Hayden instead at the end of the hallway and ran to catch up with her. "Hayden! Hey, have you seen Scott? Stiles was supposed to tell him about the Wild Hunt but that was ages ago and I haven't heard from him si- why are you staring at me like that?"

Mason and Liam rounded a corner and stood beside Hayden as she rearranged her gym bag so it was hanging off her other shoulder. She grabbed Lydia's forearm, guiding her to a quieter place on the other side of the hall. The boys followed. "How do you know about the Wild Hunt?"

"Do you go to this school?" Liam interjected.

"What's your name?" Mason offered, giving Lydia a small smile.

"What?" Lydia shook her head. She searched their faces for any hint of knowledge. "F-Forget I said anything."

Flashes of earlier in the day filled Lydia's head. She could've sworn she filled out the papers for getting her pictures done, but when she pulled them out of her bag, it was blank.

She could've sworn she saw - and heard - hooves in the abandoned house. When she was waiting for Malia in the classroom, she found a website about the Wild Hunt. And what did the website say? _Those who see the Wild Hunt beware, for you are already lost._

Lydia saw her Mom between Hayden and Liam, just down the hall, and ran between them to get to her.

"Oh, thank God!" Lydia rushed towards her, almost tripping over own feet. She reached out and put her hand on her mothers arm. "I need your help, I-"

Natalie covered Lydia's hand with her own. "Of course, Dear."

"Everyone's forgetting," Lydia started. "Everyone is forgetting everything and I-"

"Slow down." Natalie smiled. "Now, why don't you start by telling me your name?" She smiled at her.

"I- what?" Lydia furrowed her brow, trying to make sense of what her mother had just said to her. She could hear an ear-splitting crackle, a buzz, one that made her want to scream like never before, but again, she couldn't muster it. She backed up slowly, shaking her head, her curls splaying everywhere. "Nevermind." She murmured.

Lydia pulled out her phone, scanning for messages. Her pale fingers hovered over the screen, until she slowly dialed Scott's number.

"Hello?" She heard a husky voice from the other line.

"Scott?" She started. "Scott, I need your help." She slowly made her way down the hall, eyeing the students who seemed to look through her.

"Who is this?"

"It's Lydia." She sighed into the phone. _Come on_ , _please?_ She thought.

"Lydia who?"

"Lydia Martin..." She trailed off as she reached the large, heavy double front doors of Beacon Hills High.

"I'm sorry, I think you have the wrong number." Then, the line went dead.

Her head spinning in disbelief, Lydia pressed heavily on the doors and went outside.

 _I'm next_ , she thought to herself. Something she had felt all day, the weight of this realization. She was biting her lip, fidgeting with her fingers, her heeled booties click-clacking on the pavement when she suddenly heard something that made her heart leap - her name.

"Lydia!" Stiles yelled as he ran towards her. "Lydia!"

Her head snapped up and her legs seemed to have a mind of their own, pulling her towards Stiles. "You know who I am? You know me?" She asked as he got closer. "Thank God," She murmurmed.

The wind picked up around them, leaves blowing everywhere. The sky was getting even darker, if that was possible. "Of course I know you, Lydia, but I think everyone else is forgetting."

"Do you see him?" Lydia asked Stiles as she spotted the same dark figure from the house earlier. The horse he was on whinnied, and Lydia flinched.

"See what?" Stiles asked.

Lydia shook her head slightly. "The guy on the horse." She saw more dark figures coming closer and closer, the hooves clopping on the pavement.

"Lydia, if you can see them... they're going to-"

"I know." She whispered. "You have to go, get away from me."

"No, I'm not leaving you. Come here, come with me." He said as he grabbed her hand, running with her towards his blue Jeep.

"Where are they?" He called.

"They're everywhere." Lydia cried. She dodged another horse, pulling Stiles' hand to follow her lead.

They reached the jeep and closed the doors urgently, harder than they needed to, Stiles wincing as he did so. Lydia put a hand on her chest as she breathed out a heavy sigh.

"Where did you go? I was looking for you." She asked Stiles hurriedly.

"I went to find Scott, to tell him what we figured out, but I couldn't find him."

Lydia shook her head. "They're going to take me," she whispered.

Stiles put the key in the ignition, but Lydia placed a hand on his, stopping him. "There's no time." She murmured.

Stiles scooped her hand up in his, grasping her fingers. He stared at her, willing her to stay in front of him forever.

He tried to memorize every detail of her in that moment - he had already memorized every detail of her face years ago, of course. Her beautiful green eyes, her ski-slope of a nose, her plump pink lips. Her straight, white teeth and the beautiful strawberry blonde locks that framed her perfect face.

He wanted to memorize the Lydia in front of him, the one that seemed to calm at his touch. The way she relaxed when his hand enveloped hers. The way her ankles were crossed and she chewed anxiously on her lip but somehow she looked at him like he might make everything okay.

"My Mom, Scott, your Dad, they didn't remember me. People seemed to be looking right through me in the halls today. I just," she broke off and bit her lip once more, looking down at their hands. "They're going to take me." She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the weight of Stiles' hand around hers. Something so familiar yet suddenly new, safe. She wanted to take the feeling it gave her and wrap it around her whole body like a blanket. "You're going to forget me." Lydia's green eyes looked up at his.

Stiles shook his head violently. "I won't." He promised. "I won't."

"Remember me." Lydia urged, her voice shaking. "Remember... remember in the 5th grade when I fell and cut my knee? All the others kids laughed but you helped me up and walked me to the nurse. And we went to the formal together two years ago, and you made my get up and dance with you when I was being a stubborn bitch." A small smile played on Lydia's lips. "And I cheered for you when you finally played in your first lacrosse game." She felt Stiles run his thumb over Lydia's fingers.

He smiled and said, "Yeah, I remember. I shot the ball because of you. Of course I remember."

Tears started to prick at Lydia's eyes. "And remember when I kissed you? I kissed you in the locker room, and your panic attack stopped... and you looked at me like... like I was magic." The leaves started to pick up in the wind outside the Jeep.

Stiles nodded, his voice catching in his throat. "I remember when you saved my life." He laced his fingers through hers.

Lydia nodded, a tear ran down her cheek and she felt Stiles grip her hand tightly, the other hand fisting around her wrist. "You saved my life, too." She whispered.

"Please..." Stiles said sadly. _Please don't go,_ he thought.

"Stiles, remember. Remember, I-"

"I love you," she heard him say just as the door to the Jeep was flung open and she felt a grip on her legs. She was being pulled from the Jeep by her ankles somehow, a cold, electric grip dragging her out.

"Lydia!" She heard Stiles yelling, his voice sounding raw with the effort.

She felt Stiles' grasp on her wrist and hand tighten but it was no use - she was being pulled with an unnatural force. She saw him grasping the air to try and get contact with her hands, trying to pull her back to him. Then suddenly there was a bright green light - and everything went black.


	2. Chapter 2

"Hey, Scott!" Stiles called as he jogged across the parking lot to meet his best friend. His converse slapped the pavement, closing the short distance easily.

"Hey man," Scott smiled. "What'd you do last night?" He asked as he tucked his motorcycle helmet under his arm. The sun was beating down on them and it was a nice, warm afternoon.

"I... I don't remember." Stiles said slowly. It was the weirdest thing - he literally couldn't remember doing anything yesterday. Not playing video games, not doing homework, not watching TV or eating dinner with his Dad. Had he texted anyone? Had he stopped anywhere on the way home from school? What about the Jeep?

When he thought of the Jeep, something twinged inside of him. He whiped his head back to where he had been a moment ago, feeling a pull. But what was it? His mind was racing, trying to grab something, anything to relate to the pulling feeling in his stomach. But he couldn't remember what it was.

He looked back at Scott and shook his head, shrugging. "I don't know. I guess just the usual." They opened the doors of the school and quickly found their lockers, Malia not far away.

Stiles dropped his backpack on the ground in front of him and ran his hand through his hair. "I feel like I'm missing something, or... or forgetting something, you know?" He rubbed at his temple. "Forgetting someone. Like, I was supposed to meet someone here this morning."

Scott pulled a textbook from the topshelf of his locker, then shoved his backpack underneath. "Well, was it Malia? You two have been talking more lately."

"No... no, that doesn't feel right." Stiles said as he picked up his backpack off the floor and turned his lock to the proper combination. He sighed heavily as he, too, put his pack away and grabbed the first textbook he would need for the day. He pulled his phone out of his jean pocket and clicked the lock button - no new notifications. "I don't know, maybe I just ate something weird before bed last night, I feel off." He tried to laugh.

They closed their lockers in unison, heading down the hall for Homeroom.

"Hey, Malia, what'd you do last night?" Scott called to her as she rearranged her backpack, trying to squeeze between the metal.

Malia thought back. "Uh, I was at the school for a bit. Can't really remember why, but I remember leaving a class room and talking to my Dad on the phone. Nothing exciting." She said as she finally made her backpack fit inside.

Stiles was studying the things hanging inside Malia's locker. A postcard that looked ancient, a bumper sticker, and a magnet that held up a picture.

"Hey, is someone missing from that picture?" Stiles questioned.

Scott and Malia both turned to look at it.

"No?" Malia said slowly, as if he had just asked the dumbest question ever. "You were there when we took it. It was just the three of us sitting at that table."

Stiles took the picture from the magnet and held it up. "But it looks like someone was in front of you or... it almost looks like you're poking out from someone's shoulder."

Malia was still staring at him, incredulous. "Well? Do you remember anyone else being there?" She snatched the picture from his grip. "Me neither." She hung the picture back in it's place and promptly shut her locker.

"Class?" She asked, highlighters in hand. When the two of them just stared at her, she marched off towards her homeroom.

Scott laughed as she walked off and changed the subject. "Hey, have you seen the preview for that movie? What's it called, um..."

"When have you had time to check out movie trailers?" Stiles laughed, thinking of Scott's busy, werewolf-activity-packed schedule.

Scott laughed off the comment, racking his brain trying to think of the trailer he saw. "Evil Dead! It looks pretty good." He switched his textbook to the other hand.

"What, real life isn't scary enough for you right now? You want to add a horror movie to the mix?" Stiles said as they turned into the class room and sat next to one another.

Scott smirked, putting his books down in front of him. "Well, the main actress looks pretty hot."

"She's cute, not really my type though."

"Well, what about Crazy Stupid Love? You like red heads, right?" Scott softened his voice, as the teacher walked in the room.

"Strawberry blondes, actually." Stiles whispered back automatically. _Where the hell did that come from?_ He thought.

* * *

Later that night, after Stiles ate dinner and talked to his Dad while helping with the dishes, he looked around his bedroom.

Why did everything seem so off? He had the same posters on the wall since he was 14, his murder board was now in the corner of his room, and his desk was still full of papers and his laptop, red string tucked in a drawer.

He lept off his bed, the red string catching his eye. Yellow, blue and green were in there, too, but he hardly ever used those.

 _'So green is solved, yellow is to be determined, blue's just pretty._

 _What does red mean?_

 _Unsolved._

 _You only have red on the board.'_

The conversation seemed so fresh in his mind, so prominent once he picked up the string. But even as he racked his brain, he couldn't think who the hell he was having the conversation with.

* * *

Footsteps thumped as they ran up beside him, brown hair blowing out behind her.

"Hey, Stiles, have you seen Scott yet this morning?"

"Not yet, but I just got here." Stiles rearranged the heavy backpack on his shoulder as he opened Beacon Hills High's front door.

"He's not answering his phone."

"Well, it's early." Stiles joked. He walked down the hall until he got to his bank of lockers. "He's probably about to walk through the doors any-" Stiles cut himself off as the front doors opened once again, Scott tucking his motorcycle helmet under an arm and grinning once he saw them.

"Hey buddy," Stiles called as Scott walked towards them. "Your girlfriend was worried, I think. You hadn't texted her back in 22 seconds so, hey! Ow!"

"You're not allowed to make fun of us," Allison smiled. "We're in love." Allison stood on her tiptoes to kiss Scott. "Just because you've never felt like this for anyone, doesn't mean you get to make fun of us."

"Hey, I dated Malia for like..." Stiles trailed off as he tried to count the months in his head.

"You know you weren't in love with Malia."

"I liked her!" Stiles tried to defend himself as he looked around the halls to make sure Malia wasn't anywhere too close.

"Liked isn't the same as in love." Allison smiled.

"I've been in love." Stiles said credulously.

"With who?" Scott and Allison said in unison, faces serious.

Stiles opened his mouth and quickly closed it again. Why the hell couldn't he think of anyone's name? As soon as Allison mentioned being in love, he knew. He had been in love before. Hell, he still felt like he was in love with someone. But Malia had been his only girlfriend, and it hadn't been her. So... who?

Allison just smirked as Malia walked down the hall towards them. Scott started to pile his backpack and helmet in his locker.

"What'd you do last night?"

"Had sex with a lacrosse player." Malia said, no sign of a blush on her face.

"Any good?" Allison joked as the two of them walked off on their own.

Scott closed his locker, books in hand. "You coming, man?"

Stiles nodded, his thoughts drifting as the halls emptied. Something had caught his eye. "I'll be there in a minute."

The bell rang and the rest of the stragglers seemed to dissipate, Stiles crossed the few short strides down the hall. Only one of the lockers in his row was with a bright pink lock. It seemed well worn, but for some reason, the locker stuck out in his mind.

He ran his hand over the locker, then pulled on the lock it's self. Nothing. He flipped it over to see if it had the combination on the back, but nothing.

He told himself he'd come back to it.

Stiles knew he should get to class, but he kept walking down the hall. He felt as if he was being pulled towards the doors leading outside.

When he pushed the handle, and stepped outside. The sky was black, the air had picked up, leaves swirling. What the hell?

 _You know who I am? You know me? Oh, thank God._

Stiles kept walking, as if being pulled. Why was it dark? Wasn't he just in school?

 _Did you see him?_

 _See what?_

 _The guy on the horse._

The wind picked up more heavily, leaves and wind bombarding him. He kept walking, as if magnets lead him.

 _They're going to take me._

He felt himself being yanked in the opposite direction suddenly, and heard a car horn honking at him as he blinked at the sudden invasion of daylight.

"What the hell were you doing?" Malia asked.

"Trying to remember."


End file.
